


The Autistic Witch

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-07-09 04:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19881733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A brand new type of student arrives at Hogwarts, and instantly makes it clear to not only others but alsoherselfthat she is not like most witches.





	1. A Giant, A Mean Boy and An Uncomfortable Hat

Allison Thompson was not like most witches. She saw the world a bit differently. She didn’t  _ know _ there was anything different, or perhaps _odd_ about her, until the day she went on a train to Hogwarts. 

Running through the wall was really fun. She loved running. She’d done it often as a kid. Either from bees, loud adults, or just because she wanted to. In this case, it was partially helpful, as it meant getting away from the loud, and intimidatingly large Muggle trains. 

Once the train left, Allison enjoyed the view. She counted the leaves on the trees, as well as she could while they zoomed past. She checked the clouds, to determine the weather it might be once she arrived. White clouds were scattered, so inconclusive. 

“Anything from the trolley, dear?” she heard a gentle, grandma-like voice say. She frowned in confusion. Her parents had said nothing about anyone other than passengers approaching the glass between the compartments and the hallway. She stood up, and noticed that the lady was pushing a trolley full of sweets. She smiled widely. Finally, candy she  could  _trust_ not to poison her. 

Her parents had trouble feeding her dessert in the past, because of this concern. 

Allison approached the hallway and the cart. She looked around it. There were several things she’d seen, some she’d imagined and some new ones. She wondered if the Sugar Quills were supposed to have little lines in them, what might have caused those lines. She attempted, and failed to calculate the probability of getting the Chocolate Frog card she wanted, as well as the chance of the frog getting away. She counted the Bertie Botts beans, before pondering if there was a way to lick the large circular lollipop without the ridges scratching your tongue. All of this went on inside Allison’s head, slowly. While, in real-time, only 30 seconds passed before the Trolley Witch grabbed her attention again.

“Miss? Did you want anything?” she asked Allison, semi-loudly. Allison took a step back at the proximity of the loudness. 

“Ehm..I don’t know..some of this is unfamiliar, other kinds too ridgy and scratched, and I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a warm pastry or not,” Allison remarked. 

“How about we start with one of these candy canes. They’re only ridgy at the top,” the lady suggested. Allison nodded and handed her the correct coins. The cart moved away, with the Trolley Witch looking at her strangely.

When Allison stepped off the train, she was immediately pummeled by crowds of students running towards the boats. She just stood, no clue what direction to run, until she just closed her eyes, deciding to wait until she felt no more robes brushing against her. When she opened her eyes, she heard a booming voice, somewhere in the crowd behind her. 

“Hey! You there! We’re going this way!” Hagrid barked. 

While it was impossible to  _ not hear _ Hagrid, Allison could not see him, so ignored the worryingly gruff voice. Hearing no reply, Hagrid walked through the crowd to where she was standing.

“Have you got Pygmy Puffs in your ears? How’d ya not hear me?” Hagrid asked. Seeing the giant, Allison scuttered quickly backwards, clutching the wall, staring at him. 

“Hey, it’s alright, I won’t hurt ya, I’m just big,” Hagrid remarked kindly, approaching her. Allison jumped away from him again, and crouching like a mouse, with her hands in front of her, deciding to evaluate the danger of Hagrid’s big feet. This made him realize that she wasn’t the usual kind of scared, that got cured by reassuring words. At least, not in his usual volume. Hagrid laid himself down on the platform, keeping his hands and feet away from Allison.

“Hey, what’s got you so rattled? Is it my size?” Hagrid asked, stretching out a finger. Allison grabbed the finger, which fit in her hand, feeling it. 

“Why is there mud on it?” she asked quietly, making sure not to look at his ginormous head.

“I’m the groundskeeper. I work a lot with the ground,” Hagrid explained. Allison raised her eyebrows humorously, at the pun.

She managed to get the courage to put her whole hand in his, which he held carefully. 

“Now, ready to get up from this floor?” Hagrid asked. She nodded. He slowly pulled her up by the arm, before taking a step back. 

  
“I’m Hagrid. What’s your name?” he asked, introducing himself.

“Allison. Allison Thompson” she stated.

“Hi Allison. Want to tell me what I did to scare you so much?” Hagrid asked curiously.

“Well, for starters you’re really big. Big things tend to intimidate me. Then there’s your voice, first it was gruff, so I ignored it, thinking it was some angry drunk wizard on the other side of the station somewhere. Then you spoke just as loudly right next to me, up close. So that’s loud noise plus intimidating giant,” Allison explained.

“So, things tend to overwhelm you often, do they?” he questioned. Allison nodded.

“Well, I’m sorry if I ruffled your nerves. Now, how about I give you a ride in my arms, above the loud jeers of your classmates?” Hagrid offered. Allison accepted with a shrug and a smile. Grabbing Hagrids arm with both of her own, she was lifted onto Hagrids embrace. She found the soft fur of his jacket comforting. 

“What did he mean?” Allison asked suddenly, as she sat in the boat with Hagrid, only. 

“Who?”

“The boy who asked ‘what’s the matter with her?’. Has fear become odd now?” Allison explained. 

“No, that’s not what he meant. He was being a right ol’ bully! He was sayin’ that  _ you _ were odd. And not in a good way. Don’t mind him,” Hagrid explained, stroking her shoulder.

“What did I do that was so odd?” Allison pondered.

“Well, firstly you tried to hug a wall backwards, staring at, what I hope you now see as, a very  _ friendly _ giant. Then you creeped on the floor like a mouse, almost scared to touch even one finger on my hand,” Hagrid pointed out. 

“Were none of the other first-years scared of you?” she asked.

“Well, yeah, but they understood quite quickly that I was staff.” 

Allison shrugged, still confused as the boat stopped right below Hogwarts Castle. 

Hagrid brought Allison over to a red-haired boy, whom she recognized by the symbol on the robe as a prefect. 

“Okay, Allison. Now, I need to go ahead and speak to one of the other teachers, so you go along with Percy into the school with the others, got it?” Hagrid explained. Allison nodded, understanding. She took the comfortingly ordinary-sized hand of Percy Weasley and followed him. 

“Allison, I need you to explain something. Why didn’t you follow the other students when they left the train?” Percy asked.

“They didn’t just leave the train, they  _ stormed out _ of it! I nearly fell over in the chaos. So many children coming from all sides, it was impossible to know which way to go,” Allison explained.

  
“But, why didn’t you follow when everyone finally went the same way?”

“I was too busy closing my eyes, and waiting for the crowd to go away,” she stated. 

“You don’t like crowds?” Percy asked.

“I tend to run away from them, or wait, if it’s too big of a crowd,” Allison said.

“Well, then you might not like the great hall very much,” Percy remarked. 

Once inside, Percy brought Allison to Professor McGonagall. 

“Professor McGonagall, Allison here says she doesn’t like crowds, and I’m a bit concerned about her having to stand at the front with her peers for sorting,” Percy explained.

“Well then, she can be sorted last,” McGonagall decided. While the sorting happened, Allison sat on the bottom  step of the grand staircase with mr Filch, petting mrs Norris. She was then guided in by Percy. She noticed that there were magic lights in the ground. 

“Don’t look up, just follow the lights,” Percy instructed. She reached the sorting hat and had it placed in her head.

Immediately she tugged at it to move it to a more comfortable position, as it felt wonky. When the hat told her to stop, she continued turning her head to move the hat around. Her hands twitched in the air around her shoulders, whilst being prevented from  adjusting the hat. Swing the difficulty, Minerva removed the hat and hinted for both Allison and the headmaster to follow her.

**Headmaster’s Office-**

“Albus, how are we going to sort her, if she can’t keep it on her head without fidgeting? It’s clearly bothering her,” McGonagall asked in frustration. 

“I think, it’s a sign that she shouldn’t be sorted. I don’t believe she would fit in either house,” Dumbledore stated. 

“What on earth makes you say that, Albus?” McGonagall asked, shocked.

“Hagrid informed me of the incident on the platform. And I have once heard of a condition, which before this moment, I thought only affected Muggles. But Allison, you are a clear example of it. It is called autism,” Albus told them. 

“It is said to be a mild disorder in the mind, making things around other people and strange sensory input difficult or at worst, stressful. Having the sorting hat sitting wrong on your head really upset you didn’t it, Allison?” Dumbledore elaborated, and then asked her. She nodded. 

“And when all those people ran off the train, it was quite overwhelming, all those people running from different directions,” Dumbledore theorised.

“Yes. I had to close my eyes and wait for them to go away,” Allison confirmed. 

“So, our first autistic student. What do we do about the logistics, if she can’t be sorted?” McGonagall asked. 

“I think she would find her own private dormitory acceptable, wouldn’t you?” Dumbledore turned to Allison. She smiled. Her own space, without people, free to cultivate her thoughts.

“In addition, I think it would be useful for her to be assigned a Prefect to accompany her in her lessons. It seems that it doesn’t take a lot to overload her mind and confuse her,” Dumbledore recommended. 

“Can Percy be the one to do that? I really like him, and he put lights on the floor to distract me from all the people in the Great Hall,” Allison requested. 

“That sounds like a great idea,” McGonagall remarked in agreement. 

Allison was shown her dormitory and took a seat in front of the fireplace, humming potions ingredients to herself. 


	2. Heavy Books, Potions, and Poor Barty Jr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charms is a headache for our young witch to learn, _literally_ , and potions class gives a clue about curing You-Know-Who...

Allison entered the Charms classroom with Percy, the next morning. 

Professor Flitwick introduced the Levitation spell as the course of the day. She picked up her wand, pointed it at the feather and recited “Wingardium Leviosa,” The feather rose toward the wand and followed it very high up in the air. 

“Very good, Allison. And on the first try, too,” Percy complimented. 

She then picked up one of her two spellbooks and levitated them.

“Allison, you’re supposed to wait for Professor Flitwick to tell you what to cast the spell on,” Percy gently reminded. 

“But I’m doing it perfectly, look!” She pointed at the book she was easily keeping afloat in the air. 

Percy’s eyes widened as he realised that she wasn’t maintaining eye contact entirely, and yet, the spell stayed. 

“How are you doing that without eye contact?” He asked.

“It’s just a matter of concentration. I just have to think hard enough about what I’m doing,” Allison explained casually, picking up a much larger book. She lifted it all the way up in the air. 

As Flitwick walked by he noticed no item was levitating at eye-level in front of Allison. But her wand was pointing at something.

“What are you levitating?” he asked her curiously.

“One of my biggest books of spells,” Allison told him.

“Do you remember what it was called?” Flitwick asked, having forgotten what he assigned her. 

“I think it was Gregorius the Gray’s..” Allison began reciting the title. However, this replaced the part of her mind that was thinking about the book _itself_ , and her intention to lift it, so the book fell down and landed on the edge of her forehead.

“Oh dear, are you alright? What made you think you could lift that heavy book?” Flitwick exclaimed in concern, as Allison rubbed her head. 

“I did the other one just fine, and I would’ve managed this one too, if I wasn’t distracted by you asking me the title,” Allison remarked.

Flitwick couldn’t respond, as Seamus Finnegan had blown himself up. Allison started wheezing from the smoke, so she got escorted out with Percy, ahead of the others.

Next class on her schedule was potions. On her way down to the dungeons, Allison began her chant of potions ingredients.

“2 pinch aconite, 1 drop unicorn-blood, 5 dragon scales collected by a flood, 5 teaspoons ground bicorn horn, 3 tentacula leaves cut off at dawn,” 

“What are you muttering? I’ve never heard of a potion with that combination,” Percy questioned.

“It’s just a rhyme. I read a list of potions ingredients and it just appeared in my head,” she stated. 

“Maybe you can cook it in class, see what it does,” Percy remarked. 

During class, Allison was allowed to simply read the properties of the ingredients she knew.

_ Aconite is used for curing werewolves and has healing properties for those that are visibly or internally disfigured, or tortured, for instance by the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. _

_ Unicorn-blood restores life to those hanging in the balance. But there is a price.  _

_ Dragon scales build a connection to the potions maker, particularly with Parseltongues.  _

_ Bicorn horn changes things in a wizard's internal biochemistry. It can be used as an antidote to certain potions, like Amortentia. _

_ Tentacula leaves are highly dangerous and increase the effects of any potion relating to dark or anti-dark magic.  _

Allison suddenly remembered reading about Voldemort’s upbringing in a book before school. She beckoned for Percy to come over.

“I know what this is a recipe for! It’s to cure Lord Voldemort of everything that led him astray!” Allison explained. The whole class gasped at the utterance of the V-word. Percy took Allison out of the classroom to speak  _ his _ name more freely.

Allison explained further, “Tom Riddle was conceived through an Amortentia potion. That's what the Bicorn horn is for! The Aconite removes the disfigurement from him hanging out with snakes too much, and drinking their blood, unicorn blood resurrects him, Tentacula leaves undoes the Horcruxes he made and puts the parts of his soul back together, and the Dragon Scales strengthen it, as dragons are related to serpents.”

“How do you know You-Know-Who’s made Horcruxes?” Percy asked.

“I read a book about him, which describes how he was suspected of killing a relative and stealing their ring. It makes sense that he was collecting objects to put his soul in,” Allison pointed out.

“So, how will we find him and get him to drink this potion?” Percy asked, getting more sceptical.

“We don’t need him to drink it. We just mix it with some bread, make a healing wrap, smear it on the inside of the back of Professor Quirrell's turban,” Allison replied. 

“Why would we put it in Quirrell's turban?”

“He’s got Voldemort on the back of his head. I heard them whispering while I was being sorted,” she explained.

“That’s why he’s wearing it..and skulking around nervously. Alright, I’ll go get some bread from the kitchen,” Percy announced walking away, but Allison stopped him.

“We need to get the right kind of bread, the kind Voldemort really likes, to ensure its efficiency,” Allison told him.

“And, how do we do that? We can’t just ask the Dark Lord,” Percy inquired. 

“We’ll ask Barty Crouch Jr. There was a report of his mother dying shortly after visiting her son. I think they switched places in Azkaban,” Allison stated confidently. 

“Alright, well I’ve got class, so just go to Dumbledore and ask for permission to leave. He’ll grant it, you’re brilliant,” Percy complimented, heading back to Gryffindor Tower.

**Dumbledore’s Office**

“Hello Allison, shouldn’t you be in class, still?” Dumbledore asked with a mischievous smirk.

“Percy told me to ask you something. I found out that a list of potions ingredients I think about inside my head sometimes, as a sort of mantra, might be the key to curing what made Tom Riddle so..Voldy-like,” Allison told him.

Dumbledore’s eyes widened in surprise and hopefulness. He told her to sit down on his couch.

“So, what do you need from me?” Dumbledore asked her.

“Permission to leave the school. I need to ask Barty Crouch jr a question. But don’t worry, I’m not going to Azkaban, I know he isn’t there.” Allison requested.

“Will you be careful?” Dumbledore asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I promise. Protection charm as soon as he lifts his wand, and I’ll tell Barty Sr, that  _ you  _ told me where his son was,” Ally promised. 

“Very well. But I need you to bring this, and put it in your breast pocket,” Dumbledore requested, going over to his desk and pulling out a small mirror. Ally took it and put it in her breast pockets as instructed. 

“This is a two-way mirror, isn’t it? Letting you keep an eye on me,” she guessed. 

“You read the right books,” Dumbledore said with a smile. 

  
  


**Crouch residence**

Ally arrived by portkey, outside the house. She rang the doorbell. The house-elf, Winky, answered. 

“Hello, miss. What can Winky help you with?” the house-elf greeted her.

“Is your master home?” Ally asked.

“Depends. Which master?” Winky asked.

“The  _ younger _ Mr Crouch. I’m on an errand for Headmaster Dumbledore. I need to speak with him,” Ally explained, with a fib.

Winky opened the door and led Ally up the stairs to Barty jr’s room. The sound from the bed was soon revealed to be from Barty himself, reading on his bed under an invisibility cloak. 

“Who is this Winky?” Barty asked with suspicion. He looked weak, even after some years at home, and completely docile, as opposed to how the Daily Prophet described his behaviour at his trial.

“I’m Ally Thompson, first-year, _unsorted_ Hogwarts student. I need to talk to you about your past as a Death Eater. I’m sorry,” Ally introduced herself.

“Unsorted?” Barty looked at her with confusion.

“ I couldn’t stand the hat on my head. Headmaster Dumbledore says it’s a sign that I shouldn’t be sorted,” she explained.

“I wish I wasn’t sorted,” Barty muttered. 

“Now, I need to ask you a bit of an odd question about the Dark Lord,”

“Go on,” he stated indifferently.

“In all the time you spent with the Dark Lord, did you ever see him eat a particular kind of bread?” she asked. 

“Yes. White bread, delivered specifically from a bakery near..Wool’s Orphanage” Barty answered, once he remembered.

“That’s where Tom grew up,” Allison noted, using the Dark Lord’s real name. 

She thanked the young ex-Death Eater and left to gather the necessary ingredients.

**Back at Hogwarts**

“So, Allison tell me. How do you know Barty can be trusted?” Percy queried, still concerned.

“Because he was framed,” she explained. “A lot of the reading I’ve done recently, has consisted of random documents my dad brings me from his job at the Ministry. He has access to the archives. According to a testimony by Dumbledore, which was ignored, and corroborated by a former prefect named Remus Lupin, Barty was quite lonely. I suspect he has autism, like me. He was just wandering in the Forbidden Forest when he saw some Slytherin boys using the Cruciatus Curse on a first- year. He didn’t have a choice  _ but _ to join them, as a promise of secrecy,” Allison retold. 

Percy simply smiled, at the news that the Crouch family really  _ didn’t _ have an evil son, just a confused one.

  
“Well, we better get started,” he stated. And with that, they walked together back to Allison's tower to discuss how to gather all the ingredients.

_ To be continued.. _


	3. Voldy-Wrap in Turban-Wrap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The potion gets made, and _seemingly_ succeeds..

“Let’s start with the ingredients we can find at the school,” Percy suggested. And with that, Allison got a leave of absence for the week’s classes and set to work. She started the next morning, gathering the tentacula leaves from the greenhouse. Then she put as much aconite as possible in a box under her bed. She rode a broom up some hills and collected the horns that the bicorn horn had shed. 

Back at the potions lab, they discussed how to brew it. 

  
“Can we brew it with these to start?” Percy questioned. Ally shook her head. “It needs to be in the order of my rhyme,” she explained.

‘2 pinch aconite, 1 drop unicorn blood,’ Allison recited. “We start with the aconite and the unicorn blood, and stir 6 times, 3 clockwise, 3 counter-clockwise.”

“Then, we add the dragon scales and increase the heat until it soaks through, making a silvery-purple colour,” she wrote it all down on a piece of parchment, marked  _ Cure for Voldemort _ ;

_ Finally, add the bicorn horn and tentacula leaves. Wait for it to turn greenish-brown, like soup.  _

“We need to stir 5 times, like this” Ally demonstrated a very uneven, almost zig-zaggy motion with her wand above the empty cauldron.

“And then we just let it simmer for about the rest of the day, until it turns blue.”

“I’ll go ask Dumbledore about Unicorn Blood, while you ask Hagrid if his dragon’s hatched yet,” Allison instructed the Prefect.

“Hagrid has a dragon?!” Percy asked, shocked. 

  
“I saw him carrying an egg the other day, too big for any type of legal magical bird,” she confirmed. 

* * *

**Hagrid’s hut**

“ ‘Ello there, Percy! Shouldn’t you be out watching your twin brothers?” Hagrid greeted. 

“Not at this moment, no. I’ve been working with our autistic student, Thompson. She believes she has found the cure for You-Know-Who’s evilness,” Weasley explained.

“You’re both barking,” the giant remarked. 

“She managed to have a civil conversation with convicted Death Eater Barty Crouch jr. Her theory about his innocence seems to be correct, I trust her completely,” Percy argued. Hagrid went wide-eyed, then nodded in resignation. 

“So, what do you need from me? Not Aragog’s hair, I hope. He’ll never let me trim an inch of it,” Hagrid warned. 

  
“No. Has your dragon hatched yet?” 

“Yeah. Why?” 

“Does it have scales?” Percy asked. 

“Presumably. I wouldn’t know, your brother’s got him in Romania” At this, Hagrid broke down in tears and quiet sniffled. Percy hugged him for a bit. 

**Dumbledore’s office**

“I’m afraid you might not need to feed Tom this ingredient, Allison. Firenze, the centaur leader has just informed me that Voldemort was spotted in the dark forest, drinking the blood of a unicorn he most certainly murdered himself,” Dumbledore stated, gravely. His right eyebrow seemed to twitch when saying Voldemort’s name, but not out of disdain for saying the Dark Lords name, but out of preference, since Voldemort was simply a title designed to scare, as opposed to his real identity of Tom Riddle.

“I know. I heard, before I started this. Wouldn’t it still work diluted, with the other ingredients?” Allison asked, hopefully. 

“Depends how long it soaks with the aconite, before you add the rest.”

“6 stirs, Headmaster, followed by five dragon scales,” Ally informed Dumbledore. 

“Very well, you may try. Here, Severus doesn’t keep vials of that size,” Dumbledore handed Allison an almost microscopic flask, that had clearly, judging by the dark shine, held similar dark ingredients before. 

  
“What was in this flask?” she asked Albus bluntly. 

  
“A blood oath. Led to a terrible war 50 years ago. Poetic, that we use it to prevent a third,” Dumbledore answered, his eyes glittering nostalgically.

“It was Grindelwald, wasn’t it? I saw a picture of you together in  _ Hogwarts: A History _ . Apparently, he was visiting. You loved him didn’t you,” Allison implied politely.

“That is, the wrong verb tense, Miss Thompson,” Dumbledore said slowly. “I didn’t stop, as he is  _ not  _ dead. It gives me great shame to admit these feelings are still there, as he rots in Nurmengard. Once his grand castle, now his pitiful prison,” Dumbledore retold. 

“Love is not a crime, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,” Ally comforted him. They hugged. Nothing made the Headmaster happier, than someone taking the time to learn his full name. 

  
  


**Three days later..**

The date was Saturday the 20th of October. Percy Weasley and Allison Thompson had gathered the ingredients. 

Allison began, adding the 2 pinches of aconite and emptying the minuscule flask of unicorn blood. The cauldron zinged loudly, in defiance to the dark ingredient. The young witch ignored it, and stirred 3 times clockwise, then 3 times counter-clockwise. The contents turned the appropriate colour. Allison looked over at the almost dry looking scales.

“Percy, were these, collected by a  _ flood? _ ” she asked him firmly. Percy nodded. “Charlie told me when the next one was scheduled. Had to wear Mum’s poncho,” he admitted with a blush. Ally stopped herself from giggling. 

Percy had a turn in the process. He added the scales, then turned up the heat. After a few minutes, the scales melted through, turning the silvery purple liquid orange. He stirred seven times back and forth on a whim, turning it pink, but less thick. “Makes more room for the natural ingredients,” he proposed. Allison nodded in agreement, whilst cutting up the three tentacula leaves. She added them and stirred wonkily as instructed. It looked like soup, so they made sure to mark it [Dangerous, Highly Toxic] after closing the lid and turning the heat to maximum. 

The following two classes were cancelled as Dumbledore warned Snape about the reason why his classroom was making explosive noises. 

When the pair returned after dinner, the potion was blue. Percy unwrapped a piece of cloth revealing the rare type of bread required. Allison added it, put on protective gloves, and proceeded to mush the potion together with the bread, until it looked like regular bread pudding with blueberry jam. She grabbed the cauldron, and with the help of Harry’s invisibility cloak, they hid outside Quirrel’s office until both he and the man who borrowed his head were unconscious. They quietly crept inside, next to the bed. Percy soundlessly picked up the turban on the nightstand and handed it to Allison. She then used the Knockback jinx, to turn the sideways-laying professor around, revealing the equally sleeping face-only embodiment of Voldemort on the back of Quirrel’s head. Percy gasped silently. He had honestly not expected the Dark Lord to  _ actually _ be where the first-year girl had stated. He had been  _ slightly _ sceptical…

Allison carefully poured the Voldy-wrap into the turban. Making sure not to spill any, she gently slid the turban onto Quirrel’s head and scuttered quickly out of the room with Percy. Looking back, with the cloak once again covering them, they saw the glow of blue merging with the green dark magic of Voldemort becoming cyan. 

And with that, they both went to bed, waiting to see what would’ve occurred by 6 AM. 

_ The end is nigh..or is it? _


End file.
